


"Well... that could happen to anyone, really."

by allonsytastic



Series: Whouffaldi Week 2017 [5]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompt, WhouffaldiWeek2017, and no memory of what happened last night, and they're the ones with memory loss, seriously I'm probably more confused about this story than the main characters, two space-dorks, two wedding rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 17:29:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10518462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsytastic/pseuds/allonsytastic
Summary: Fifth entry for Whouffaldi Week 2017. Again,looselybased on today's prompt:Wedding Day / "What are we going to do with a handbag full of crêpes?"





	

Clara and the Doctor awake in a tangled heap on the floor of the TARDIS' console room. Limbs stiff from their awkward sleeping positions, they stretch before simultaneously coming to the conclusion that neither of them can quite recall what they did the previous night.

The Doctor must've lost his coat somewhere along yesterday's high jinks, being left with a rumpled hoodie over his favourite _'Trust me, I'm a Doctor'_ \- shirt which Clara gave him for his last birthday. Not that either of them actually know or remember the date of his birthday _(Clara isn't even sure what sort of calendar Gallifreyans use and the Doctor's specifications on the subject are either willfully or unwittingly confusing and contradictory)_. Nevertheless, that doesn't mean he can't still have a birthday party once a _(human_ _)_ year.

A birthday party which - judging from their current state of disarray - may have gone a little overboard this time round...

 

Mirroring the Doctor's disheveled look, Clara's style is equally ruffled. Her shirt is torn at the shoulder and her hair is tousled beyond any recognizable shape of haircut. She seems to have exhanged one of her hardy adventuring boots for a flip flop, curiously wearing the 'right' shoe of each set on both her right _and_ left foot. _Weird._

Further inspection of their surroundings reveals an inflatable pool crocodile, a ukulele and a mysterious bag, the contents of which baffle both Clara and the Doctor alike.

_"What are we going to do with a handbag full of crêpes?"_

_"Shouldn't the first question rather be: 'Where on earth/Neptune/Mars/Tereleptos or wherever in the known or unknown universe exactly we went last night, did we **get** a handbag full of crêpes?'"_

Clara rakes her mind for any indication of the bag's origins, but - as of now - any memory which might be left of the past twelve hours is inaccesible.

 

_"I vaguely remember some sort of wedding reception."_ the Doctor announces after a while.

_"Well **I** seem to vaguely recall some sort of deadly alien spider. Mine definitely beats yours."_

_"I'd say that depends..."_ he responds as he - with great interest - inspects a piece of jewelry on his left ring finger, which seems to have appeared overnight.

Clara hesitates before examining her own ring finger, unsure of what she expects _(or hopes)_ to find - and then wordlessly holds out her hand next to the Doctor's, considering their matching set of wedding bands and the engagement ring she is wearing on her middle finger.

 

_"Doctor, did we accidentally get space-married?"_

_"Why do you insist on putting 'space-' in front of everything?"_

_"Why do **you** insist on evading my questions?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"Well neither do I."_

 

_"What was the question?"_

_"You. Me. Accidental marriage."_ Clara asks, then adds another _"Space."_ just for good measure.

_"Well I should hope a sensible human like you wouldn't just accidentally get hitched."_

_"Are you suggesting that this was intentional?"_

The Doctor hesistates, shuffling his feet before taking heart and making a confession. _"Well, to be entirely honest, I've seen that engagement ring before. When I bought it. Three months ago."_

_"You've been carrying that thing around for three months?"_

He nods sheepishly.

_"And then last night you decided it was the right moment to ask?"_

_"Yeah - No - I don't know... I've no idea **what** I was thinking last night."_ The Doctor's face is a jumble of different emotions, eventually turning into a hopeful expression as he points to Clara's hand. _"But it seems you weren't totally averse to the suggestion."_

_"Doctor, we're practially living together on the TARDIS. We've saved each other's lives more times than either of us can count and we've literally been holding hands on every single trip for the past six months - **of course** I'm not disinclined. All I'm saying is... 'ask a girl out first'..."_

_"One might argue that the terms 'first' and 'later' really do become quite relative once you start time traveling."_

_"Fair point."_

 

_"So... what d'you think? Want to give it a_ _go?"_   His voice is steady, but the way he keeps fidgeting with his newly acquired wedding ring betrays his nervousness.

_"I do."_ She winks at him. _"But don't think you're getting out of taking me to dinner."_

An expression of sheer unadulterated joy spreads across the Doctor's face. _"Wouldn't dream of it. And I know just the place - one table for two coming right up!"_ He turns towards the console, swiftly entering a set of coordinates and pulling the dematerialization lever in a single fluid motion. Clara watches him, a smile on her lips. _"Could have done worse, I suppose."_ she teases, getting up onto her toes and finally claiming their first kiss as officially newly-wedded _(space-)_ husband and wife.

 


End file.
